they're just old lights
by thecivilunrest
Summary: The history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us, not even once. /Or, in the beginning everything that shimmered gold gold reminded him of Arthur.


**Fandom: **BBC Merlin

**Story Title: **"They're Just Old Lights"

**Summary: **The history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us, not even once. /Or, in the beginning everything that shimmered gold gold reminded him of Arthur.

**Character/Relationship(s): **Merlin Emrys/Arthur Pendragon, Guinevere.

**Rating:** K+

**Warnings: **Major character death, ANGST.

**Story Word Count: **1000+

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything recognizable.

**Notes: **I will never be happy again. Also sorry about this it's mostly just FEELS AND TEARS.

_They're Just Old Lights_

In the beginning, after Arthur (and oh, how he hates that there's an after Arthur in his life) everything that shimmered gold reminded him of Arthur. It reminded him of his sword, of the sun glinting off of Arthur's hair, of the wealth that surrounded Camelot.

After a while it's not just gold things—but also golden people. The Great Dragon had told him that Arthur would come back, and Merlin holds him to that promise. Each time he sees a golden person his heart clinches and he hopes and hopes and tries not to feel his heart break more and more and more each time that it's not Arthur after all.

.

Merlin never goes back to Camelot, not while people that he knows are alive. He can't stand to look at them, and to know that Arthur's ghost is standing in between them. It's better to go off somewhere, somewhere where his magic will be useful. Somewhere where he won't be reminded about his best friend.

Queen Guinevere finds him anyway, her carrier pigeons landing on his shoulder. The messages are never very long. They always ask him for help in the solution of a problem, and even though he knows that his answers can't be timely, he answers anyway. He likes to think that she asks because she likes having someone that she _can _ask and who won't judge her, all things considered.

Gwen only ever mentions Arthur once. _I know that Arthur thought so highly of you, that you helped him shoulder all of his burdens. And you were such a good friend to me as well. I just want you to know that I never forgot about that_, she writes and tears rolled down Merlin's cheeks at that before he roughly pushes them away with the back of his hand.

He doesn't say anything about Arthur in his response, and he thinks that she understands better than anyone.

Eventually she stops writing as frequently, until she stops writing at all and Merlin knows that she's died. He's vaguely aware of the planets revolving around him, about time passing him by and leaving him unchanged, but it never hits home until Gwen stops writing all together.

He cries for his friend, for all of them, because he knows that once Guinevere stops writing him that it's over forever and there's nothing left for him in Camelot.

.

He switches forms when he goes from place to place. He's more comfortable as Emrys and that form gets him more respect from people that he doesn't know. Young Merlin is a boy with a bright smile and an idiotic look on his face, but Emrys looks as though he's wise and all knowing and everything that Merlin likes to pretend that he is, sometimes.

Merlin knows that he'll go back to his younger form permanently when he finds Arthur again. Arthur will want a servant, a friend, and that friend can't be Emyrs. If he ever sees Arthur once more he'll try to stay with him, age with him and hopefully be with him forever.

.

There's a boy once, in a village, who is so much like Arthur that it makes Merlin's chest contract. He's scrappy and his hair is golden and underneath the dirty face lies eyes that are as familiar to Merlin's as his own.

"You can't speak to me like that," this boy tells a jeering group of boys the day that Merlin sees him. He's surrounded by them, and they're all older and bigger despite the fact that they're obviously less well fed and well dressed.

The boy is about to be beaten, and they're crowding around him hungrily before Merlin says, "Hey, lay off." He's in his Emrys form and they look at him and laugh before Merlin sends them flying back with a spell that he hasn't used in decades. His magic is used for good now, but it's also been about protecting Arthur and he might be doing just that.

And yet, no one notices except for the boy.

"You have magic," the boy—Arthur, maybe, possibly, hopefully—says like it's absolutely normal and Merlin nods. "You have to leave at once. They'll kill you, you know."

And then he gives Merlin once last look over his shoulder as he's running away.

.

There's a time when the memory of Arthur fades, and Merlin hates himself the most for that. The exact shade of his eyes, of the glint in his hair slips away from him and Merlin does everything in his might to get the memory that he most desired back.

The ghost of Arthur stands in front of him then—even though it really isn't a ghost, not truly. It's just Arthur, in his armor with all of the color seeped out. A memory in its barest form. Just a wisp, really.

Merlin just looks at Arthur, who looks back just as quietly. There's the hint of a smirk on Arthur's face—the kind of thing that Merlin once knew was the prologue to a smart arse comment and it's all so achingly familiar that for the first time in centuries Merlin cries.

"No man is worth your tears," he swears he hears Arthur say, but he doesn't respond, not even when Arthur fades away.

.

When the 21st century hits Merlin is pretty sure that he's seen everything that he ever needs to see. Women wearing pants, horseless carriages and balls of light that aren't magic among them. The world doesn't need magic anymore—doesn't need _him—_and he just doesn't understand why it was necessary that he live forever.

He hasn't seen Arthur since that boy in the village, and that might not have been Arthur at all. The Great Dragon might have been wrong after all. It wasn't like he hadn't been wrong before.

He goes back to Camelot—or where Camelot would stand if it still existed.

It's the United Kingdom now, and it looks like the places that Merlin's been before. But the very air here seems to remember him. Or at least remember his magic.

He decides to stay Emrys here too, even though it aches not being Merlin when he's at home.

A truck passes beside him as he glances at Avalon again, reminding him that he's not in the same place that he was, and he keeps walking. There's nothing else for him to do, now.

He's passing a fish and chips joint when he sees them, or rather hears them, really.

Even though his mind thinks that he's forgotten his body remembers the sound of Arthur's voice. This isn't the Arthur that Merlin last heard, the one that told Merlin to just _hold him; please._ This is the arrogant one that he would use on a daily basis, the one voice that makes sense.

They're sitting around a metal table, the three of them. They look like the people Merlin could never forget. They look _exactly _like them. Gwen and Lancelot and Arthur all. There's a seat in between Gwen and Arthur and it looks like it was crafted, just for him.

So Merlin becomes Merlin again, and sits.


End file.
